


Slime Monster/Reader

by nsfwlamb



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Eating, F/M, Food, Monster - Freeform, Monster porn, Monsters, Size Difference, Slime, Teeth, Terato, Teratophilia, bones - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 14:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13412916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nsfwlamb/pseuds/nsfwlamb
Summary: “You saw me, so really I HAVE to eat you,”Again you lifted the gun. No, this was real, but there was nowhere the voice was coming from. As your eyes dashed around you discovered feathers on the forest floor. There were chicken feathers mingling with cardinal, blue jay, turtle dove. There was the horn of a bull. Your face fell and you were paralyzed with fear. This was a bad idea.(there is no vore in this :p)





	Slime Monster/Reader

When your grandmother offered to give over her two hundred and fifty acre farm to your mother and father you were in California. When you moved to the cities of the golden state you knew you'd possibly be gone a long while, with visits to your parents few and far between. It had been five years now. Mom and dad were living in Iowa. Your siblings were living in Iowa. The farm was living in Iowa. When the farm was passed down, and when your mother called you and your siblings to come in for a visit, you could do nothing but heartfully agree. Your vacation days were smartly saved up, just like the pennies from your paycheck. 

With two weeks of off-time all set, you took a plane to the nearest big city in Iowa. Your sister came and picked you up in her truck, an air of joy and excitement radiating from her bones. 

“Five years!” she exclaimed, merging. “I'm so happy to see you again! Ol' Rowdy is gonna be so excited to see you. I bet she still remembers you, she never did forget a face did she?”

You grinned and chuckled. “She must be what, fifteen now?”

Your sister nodded. “Mmmyup! Goin' on sixteen!”

The two of you chatted on about the dog, about what happened to Brittany Paile after high school, about how since your mother got the farm she hadn't had a drop of alcohol in the house. 

Two hours of driving and you finally pulled into the long drive of the family farm just before dusk. The yard was dotted with parked cars; your brother's, your parents', your grandmother's, and her late husband's old rusty truck. It felt like a family reunion.

Your car door slammed shut. Cool wind brushed your cheeks and the sweet pea plants gently rustled from the nearby field. Chickens pitched a fit from their pen, clucking and pecking, as they saw you and your sibling walking towards he front porch. Moos from the cows curiously came.

Your mom opened the door before you could, and out came sluggish Rowdy, the sweetest little black lab one could ever meet. You and your mom hugged tightly while Rowdy sniffed at your jeans. She jumped with her paws to your back against the strain of her old bones, remembering you. With a laugh from everyone you all scrambled back into the warm house.

After an amazing dinner provided by your beaming father (with a little help from your chef brother), you were showed to your room. The old farmhouse was just as you'd remembered from childhood. Everything seemed to be made of wood. Your grandfather built the place himself. There was an upstairs with several rooms- one of which was yours- and a downstairs basement for storage and tornadoes warnings. 

You settled in for the night. After an hour of tossing and turning, the house creaking, and what you thought was the crow of an angry hen, you fell asleep.

In the morning your grandmother was distraught. She had gone to feed the chickens to find one missing. At breakfast she sighed. “This is the third one this week,”

“Must be a fox,” said your brother. “we should set out some traps,”

Something came over you. “I'll sit outside and keep watch if you'd like granny,”

She gave you a pessimistic but thankful smile. When evening fell, she hobbled to a closet close to the front door and pulled out a shotgun. It seemed overkill for a fox, but this was the sticks you supposed. She'd always been a little excitable, nothing had changed. 

So you sat in waiting on the porch after dinner. The paint-peeled rocking chair made no noise when you rocked in it. Brilliant purples and pinks faded to deep dark blues and the chill in the air continued to increase. Luckily your jacket was well equipped for this sort of fall weather.

At around eleven the chickens stirred. You even thought yo heard one of the distant cows mooing, and a fumbling of nervous hooves put you on high alert. You stood, shotgun ready. There'd be no more chicken thievin' tonight if you could help it.

“Bok-bok-BUHCOK!” yelled a chicken from the pen.

You ripped out your flashlight from your jacket pocket, trembling, and flicked the light on. Down the porch, to the side of the house, up to the chicken wire. Your light shined across everything, the chickens scrambling and flying and- what's that? There was a transparent fluid dribbled around the mess of dirt and chicken droppings. 

Your light followed the trail across the pen. Suddenly it glittered against a strange substance, much like the consistency of jello, but big. Big. Big! You dropped your flashlight.

“Shit!”

When you picked it up, whole body shivering and shaking, and flung the light beam back towards that godless green color, you found nothing to be amiss. No jello. No fluids. What was that thing? The chickens were starting to settle down, but of course one was missing. There seemed to be no blood. The chicken thief wasn't a fox. Your heart was nearly leaping out of your body- you could stand no more. Back to the rocking chair you went.

You had gone to bed around one in the morning. At breakfast you explained, with downcast eyes, that you saw the fox but missed. You wanted to sit out again tonight and wait- but first you wanted to walk around the farm with hopes of finding the den. That's what you told them at least. When you put on your warm jacket and fur-lined boots, your mom put a hand on your shoulder.

“I know granny gave you a shotgun, but you don't really need a shotgun for a fox dear,” she laughed. Looking around to make sure her mother wasn't there, she reached into the hall closet and handed you a BB gun. “if you just scare it off it t'wont come back,” 

You were terrified with just a BB gun but went out anyways. It was still well into the sunny hours, but would get dark around five. You started off towards the sparse surrounding woods. That creature last night was big- there was no way it could hide! You started to wonder if you hallucinated.

An hour passed of searching. The farm was huge though, so there was still much ground to cover. You thought you'd walk to the pond in the somewhat denser part of the woods. It was beautiful. You recalled walking there with your grandparents years ago when you were just a wee one. There were no fish in the pond, but you had loved to catch newts with your siblings. Now the pond felt so much smaller.

You sat down on a boulder, BB gun to the forest floor. Little tidbits of ground water and runoff trinkled into the pond from the squat cut bank, squeezing through rocks. You let the sound relax you. Your eyes closed and you chanced a smile. The air was so fresh here.

“It's only fair that I get to eat you now,” came a quiet voice.

You started, head swerving and BB gun quickly scooped up. On your feet you pointed the gun at nothing. There was just- there was nothing. You were hearing things. Your arms relaxed.

“You saw me, so really I HAVE to eat you,” 

Again you lifted the gun. No, this was real, but there was nowhere the voice was coming from. As your eyes dashed around you discovered feathers on the forest floor. There were chicken feathers mingling with cardinal, blue jay, turtle dove. There was the horn of a bull. Your face fell and you were paralyzed with fear. This was a bad idea.

Suddenly you realized the trees were oozing a thin material that was slowly thickening up, and it wasn't tree sap. This substance came together and congealed before your eyes, and right then and there formed what you could only describe as a slime chicken. It wasn't QUITE a chicken, but the stance certainly resembled one. On top its head twisted six pink-ringed tentacles- no, now it was seven. At it's rear thicker pink-ringed tentacles wriggled, with smaller ones encircling the thick ones. It seemed almost nudibranch-like. 

The seafoam green slime was rather solid, but there was the occasional drip.... drip.... against the rotting fall leaves on the floor. You could see no mouth or eyes.

“Stay back,” you choked out, BB gun aimed for the head. You were sure you were shaking too hard to aim properly. “Wh-what are you? Satan?”

The creature laughed. “Ha ha ha.. I'm just a hungry monster. Usually I don't consume humans, but what choice do I have but to eat you?”

It's maw stickily opened, revealing rows of neon pink razor teeth and a bright cyan forked tongue. Such beautiful colors. You shook your head and tensed. “I'll shoot you,”

In response the monster seemed to smile smugly and step forward. Its thick legs, upon connecting with the ground, left splatters of goo and slime about. 

You pulled the trigger. When the little pellet struck the beast it made a soft schnt and just barely entered the surface. It was easily expelled from his body. 

“Ow,” he said. He continued advancing.

You kept shooting off the BB gun in a panic, but then this seven foot tall monster was in front of you and suctioning the gun to his hand. He pulled gently and you released it, staring up. The gun was tossed away. 

“Please- please don't eat me,”

The monster slumped down, just hovering over your frail human body. Slime dripped onto your head and shoulders and you flinched. He stuck out his cyan tongue, smelling you, then retracted it and leaned back up with a pleased sigh.

“You smell yummy. Really I can't emphasize how much I don't eat humans, but I'm just so hungry, and the chickens will run out, and you've seen too much of me,”

You took a step back and stumbled, falling hard on your bottom. This seemed to get a toothy grin from the monster. Your palm flew up.

“Wait! Wait! If you're hungry I- I have food back at the house, I'll bring it to you,”

The slime squatted down. He seemed to regard you a moment. “You'll tell others I've been eating your chickens,”

You shook your head. “Why would I do that? You'd eat me,”

“That's true.. bring me your food, and do not tell anyone, and maybe I will not eat you,” 

You nodded, scrambled up, and took off towards the house. You left the BB gun behind. By the time you had your hand on the door knob you were huffing and heaving, the cold air stinging your lungs. You got your breath and walked in like nothing was wrong. Slipping by your family (the ones not at work) who were watching a film in the living room, you carefully opened the freezer and got a bag of raw frozen hamburger patties. You thought a moment. Then you also grabbed a half-empty bag of frozen chicken thighs.

When you got back to the pond there was no monster. You opened the bags regardless and dumped out all the meat on the ground hopefully. Suddenly he seemed to appear from behind the trees, plopping out with his wet feet to the pile. You were terrified and watched him, keeping your distance.

He stuck out his tongue and got to his knees. Then, as if ravenous, he grabbed up all the meat his wide hands could get in one go and crammed it among his pink teeth. One more handful and all that frozen meat was gone. The meat dissolved into nothing when it went down his throat- you could see it. That must have been at least twelve patties of cow and three chunks of chicken! He seemed happy, smiling and dripping more heavily from his face and jaw. His head tentacles squirmed and twisted a little, and your heart thumped when you saw just the slightest sliver of what looked like a pink eye.

“You didn't lie,” he said. “so I won't eat you. For now. What was this that you gave me?”

You placed a hand to your heart, relieved. “Cow and chicken,”

He was perplexed. “Not as tasty as your chickens. But plentiful. I will make a deal with you little human. Feed me when I am hungry, and I will not eat your chickens, and I will not eat you,”

You couldn't look away from his teeth. After a moment you agreed. You would go back to the house and tell them you scared the fox away- no more missing chickens. In fact that's exactly what you did. Your family was very happy with this, as they could go on without having to replenish their stock.

Ever since then you adhered to the wishes of the monster in the woods. Annoyingly, he made you feed him three meals a day. You would take half of your dinner to him, along with a little extra. He wasn't always around, so you would leave the food for him to find. So far there had been no more missing chickens. A week had gone by of your vacation, and you siblings had since gone back home. You still had a week to stay, and there were only a few days till Thanksgiving. 

It was evening, and the sun was just beginning to set. You had made dinner for your parents and grandmother that night. It was pork chops, mashed potatoes, and Texas toast. You “accidentally” made too much of everything. So much in fact that you had two whole extra pork chops, nearly a cup of mashed potatoes, and three slices of toast left over. Oops. After dinner you said you were going for a walk, and your family smiled and went about their business.

Plate in hand, you went into the dimming woods. Leaves crunched under foot. You nearly tripped when you were staring up at the painting that was the Iowan sky. Saved a pork chop from falling into the dirt. 

You got to the pond and the monster was already there. He saw you just as he bit down into a thigh bone. A loud snap and crunch reached your ears and he hastily gobbled up the still wet bone. Was he taller? 

“Where did you get that?” you asked suspiciously. 

He appeared energetic and happy. There was blood around him, but no matter how much blood there seemed to be, there was not a drop on his body. He must have absorbed it. 

“I ate a deer!”

You blinked and watched as he licked his snout. “Here,” you said, holding out the plate.

He sat down and held out his hands, forcing you to put it down into his palms. His tongue graced the pork chop.

“You haven’t fed me this before,” he said. “what is this? Most of this is not meat,”

You rubbed your arm. “I cooked pig, there's lots of seasoning on it. I also made mashed potato from some we had stored, those still have peel in it and garlic powder. The toast is made from bread my mom made, I just coated it with butter and herbs. I...” you furrowed your brows. “I hope you like it,”

His tongue came out again and the corner of his mouth twitched. “You seem nervous,” he said quietly. “did you make this just for me? This must make us friends,” he grinned his toothy grin.

You gave a worried laugh.

Finally, he sat the plate down into his lap and began to eat. He was never a delicate or thoughtful eater, but currently he was picking up a hunk of meat with all the gentleness of a baby bird picking at a new feather. He scrutinized the pork chop between his thumb and pointer finger. Then he gave it a slow and careful lick, tasting the seasoning on the outside. His gooey mouth smacked, and finally he ate it. He actually chewed. Tasted the meat. You found yourself staring too intently, worrying too much.

“This is very good,” said the monster kindly. “it is much yummier than the deer was. Human, can you cook deer? I wonder how that would taste if you could,”

You let out a breath you didn't know you held. “You really like it?”

He nodded. “Yes! Now what is this mush here again?”

You came closer, seeing what he was pointing at. “Oh, I said those are potatoes,”

Even sitting down he was towering over you. Yeah, he had definitively grown. He hummed thoughtfully, then went back to his hungry fever and licked the plate with his strong tongue. The mashed potatoes were gone in an instant and the toast and meat had fallen into his lap. You covered your mouth to not laugh, but he noticed and turned his head down towards you.

“What's so funny,” he asked.

You were scared he was angry. You took a step back, but found one of his tentacles had wrapped around just enough to keep you from moving any further. Suddenly you were scared, your hands coming together to your chest, wrapped in a fist.

“Don't eat me,” you said automatically. 

He smiled and leaned forward and your eyes shut tightly. There was a breathy laugh from him before you felt his slimy tongue swiping up your face. Ew! Yuck! You had to wipe away the grime from your eyes to open them. Your face was dripping with goo and your hair had a giant cowlick. He was still too close. He found it funny.

“Now I should laugh,” he commented. “Ha ha ha!” then he purred a bit, tone changing somewhat. “You taste like the spices on your pig meat,” and opened his mouth to lick you again, but stopped himself midway. 

He leaned back and removed his tentacle, allowing you freedom once more. Shame seemed to wash over him, his smile gone. “I'm sorry. I am just so hungry, and you always smell so... appetizing,”

He quickly ate what was left of the dinner and was quiet. You two were in silence for a whole minute before he mentioned that it was getting dark. There was some concern in his voice, and it made you want to leave even less. Before you left he handed you back an intact plate and thanked you for the delicious meal, and reminded you, guiltily, that he would not eat you.

Soon Thanksgiving was upon you. Your mother, desperate to make the holiday just as amazing as her mother always did, had been preparing for days. She had hay rides ready for the kids- even though that was typically a Halloween tradition- and cute little paper turkeys hanging from the trees in the front. The warm cabin that was the farmhouse was already filled with the smell of food. The barn had even been tidied up; mouse traps removed and floor swept. Spick-and-span. 

It was still early in the morning, but you were already awake. You helped your mom finish up some late cooking before the first of the family arrived. Your siblings got there before anyone else since they lived so close. With those two there to help your parents, you went up stairs to your room to put on some actual clothes. Wandering around in an old T-shirt, PJ bottoms, and a robe wasn't going to do. 

Just as you wiggled a cozy sweater over your messy bed head there came a wet slap to your window. You jumped and twirled to look, somewhat startled, and found yourself perplexed at the glob on the glass. After shaking away the stupor you realized it was the monster. That goo was the same seafoam that made up his body- had he.. thrown snot at you? The jell retracted with a sshhk and then hit your window again.

You opened it, squinting down. Slime was stuck to the side of the house, oozing and dripping. You were horrified! If someone drove up right now, they'd see him! You looked down the empty drive way then back down to the hands and head that was more or less shaping into the shape you recalled. 

“Let me in,” he said. “please,” he was waiting for your permission.

You moved back after a long stare and waved him in. The slime slipped across over the window frame, pouring into your little room. You actually had to back up to keep him from touching your bare feet until he slowly but surely reformed into his typical shape, though he was dripping more than usual. Flecks of gelatin were getting all over your floor.

He was- he was huge! He must have grown another foot and a half! What, was he maybe nine and half, ten feet tall now? He actually had to duck his head, which bothered him. He took to sitting, his tentacle tails thumping and writhing. 

“Wh.. what do you want?” you asked, uncertain and with arms crossed.

He whined. “You didn't feed me this morning!”

You furrowed your brows and rubbed your hand on your cheek. “Ohhh my God,” you droned. 

He went on. “I had to hunt down my own breakfast! Ate a chicken from that other farm- the one with all the big fat ones. A dog bit me,” he pointed at his ankle, though you could see no marks.

You sat on the edge of your bed. “You stole another chicken?” you found yourself feeling angry and wagged a finger. “Bad! You shouldn't do that! Why are you so hungry that you had to steal more farm animals?”

He became sheepish and twiddled with his stubby fingers, tentacles growing still. “Sorry,” he peeped.

His tiny voice made your heart grow softer. Was this really the terrifying creature that had said he was going to gobble you up just for seeing him? He was so big now, but he sounded genuinely apologetic. You sighed and lowered you hand. It was your fault anyways for skipping out on the deal you had made. But couldn't he have just hunted more deer? He really loved poultry. 

“Really, why are you so hungry?” you glanced him up and down, then nervously added “You weren't this big when we met.. is it like, hibernation? Like a bear?”

One of the appendages of his head twisted around another and his chin lowered. “No,” 

You waited for more but that was all he gave. “Do you always eat so much?”

He hesitated. “No,”

After another silence you eventually stood up, heading to the closed door. “I'll get you something else to snack on- oh! I can't go back down with just a sweater and PJ bottoms, better grab some pants. You interrupted me getting dressed,”

He followed you with his eyes. For once they were open- but just midway. When you dug for a fresh pair his mouth stickily opened and he inhaled gently, tasting the air, probably tasting you. 

You turned towards him with the pants in your hand. He was just watching you. You felt embarrassed, and then you felt embarrassed that you felt embarrassed. He was just a monster! Why should you feel shy? He didn't even look like he had a- you turned around. Face hot. 

“Don't just stare at me,” you mumbled, bashfulness evident. 

He hummed, a bit of his jaw and chin dripping. “Why not?”

“I'm.. just.. never mind,” 

You went ahead and shimmied the soft bottoms off your legs and kicked them away from your feet. You felt his eyes boring into you curiously. He couldn't really see much of your panties or bottom, the baggy sweater covered those up. But your bare legs were absolutely exposed. The floor creaked and you barely glanced over your shoulder- he was leaning with his forked tongue poking out like he was trying to better smell you, but when he realized you noticed he closed his mouth.

“Do I smell good?” you asked automatically, unable to ignore that. You regretted it.

He leaned back. “You always smell good,”

Trying to pretend you didn't notice your red face you got your jeans up over your legs. That's better. Less exposed. He watched you as you turned the doorknob and left, and when you eventually came back with a few strawberries and a very small bit of turkey he still stared at you. At the sight of the snack his maw reopened and he slowly smiled widely.

“I don't think you've had fruit before, it's pretty tasty,” you commented, acting as if nothing odd had happened previously. 

You held out your palms, food pooling inside, awaiting his own palms to accept the goodies. He decided to scoot forward and dip his head down, jaws nice and ajar, and instead await your hands to accept his teeth. His lips (were one to call them that) were still upturned happily. 

He would bite your hands off. He was going to lure you in with a false sense of safety, then as soon as your wrists barely touched enamel, snap! Gone! But you felt compelled to obey if he wanted you to do something, both feeling threatened and allured. 

“I won't hurt you,” he said smoothly, before returning his jaw to be fed.

Finally you took a step forward. Your cupped hands went into his mouth, framed between the two rows of knife sharp pink edges. The little snack dropped to his tongue and you quickly withdrew your hands as if burned. He chewed twice then down the food went.

“You were right,” he agreed, tilting his head. “fruit is pretty tasty. Is there only one fruit? Hm. Are the little sour berries in the woods the same as a fruit?”

He was so weird! How could he make you do that then ask such a typical question? This time you stared, brows furrowed. The beast still had his head dipped down, his snout just a couple inches away from booping the top of your head.

“You never answered me about how come you eat so much,” you questioned suspiciously. “if it has nothing to do with hibernation and you're not usually like this, it must still be something,”

He went quiet, surprised. His mouth closed, but his eyes were still open. You could see the cyan frog-irises peeking between swaying tentacles. “Does it matter,” he replied defensively, though not with hostility. 

You squinted. Time and again he proved he would not injure you, despite your frequent nervousness. How far could you push him to get him to answer before he actually got angry? 

“It's just,” you began, looking down. “you said we were friends. Right?”

Two of his tail tips thumped, as if he were happy. It was kinda cute, and the corner of your lip twitched. 

“Yes! Yes we are friends!” he exclaimed, and suddenly nuzzled his snout into your head affectionately. The slime wasn't sticking to your hair, but it was cold and wet and you stumbled from the force of it.

He steadied you on reflex, a big drippy hand carefully stopping you in place so as not to fall. You found your sweater also did not stick to the slime. When you had your balance and looked back up at him, he was absolutely beaming, neon teeth again in view.

“I ask cause, I guess if we're friends, it would be nice to know more about you,” you tried, absently patting the hand that was still touching you. His palm was so big that he could more than likely wrap it around your waist and lift you if he so pleased. It gave you chills.

He ducked his head and removed his hand, considering this. “I don't know human, you.. may become injured,”

You pouted and he turned his head away so he wouldn't be affected. In response you huffed and reached up a hand to pat one of the tentacles on his head. He was surprised and jolted, but remained still otherwise. After a couple of strokes his head lowered further, further, further, and he was laying down. 

“Aw, you're like a dog,”

He hummed softly, eyes and mouth shut and enjoying the attention. Your hands were so small and soft, and he had never been petted before. As he was pacified you tried again.

“Please, I promise we'll still be friends,”

Another moment of thought. “It's a special part of the year,” he gave quietly. 

You laughed. “Yeah, Thanksgiving,”

He squirmed a little, turning on his side so you couldn't see his face. “No. We don't have Thanksgiving. It is not a holiday,”

Long, slow strokes against the more solid tentacles. “You're so vague, now I'm really interested. Who's we, huh?”

“Monsters. In general. For me, it is a time to be healthy, to eat much and drink much and grow large and strong and attractive,” 

You nearly stopped petting him. This made him very nervous. All of his tentacles has halted to a crawl, though the one your hand rested on twirled at the end. He was waiting for you to reply.

“Attractive?”

He gave just the smallest noticeable nod. “Speak no more of it human,” he replied huskily. “I then must leave,”

Your cheeks grew redder and your blood rushed harder. Your hands remained still. “So.. not like a bear hibernating, like.. a dog in- uh, you know, in uh,”

He didn't reply. He must be embarrassed to talk about it.

You swallowed. “You have a mate then? There are more?”

A strange noise came from his throat and he breathed gently, drooling ever so slightly onto the nice wood floors of the farmhouse. “No, and- maybe. This is a.. bad line of conversation,”

You didn't mean to bother him, it was just so interesting and he sounded so vulnerable. When you finally continued to stroke his head you found it to be coated lightly with his slime where it hadn't just seconds ago. Oops. That was your fault. His tentacles were coming back to life but only so much, and you eyed the ones on his rump.

“Can I pet those too? The big ones?”

He gave a odd laugh. “If you'd like,”

You walked over and placed your hand on one of the thick ones. You were compelled to place your other hand on the opposite side- wow it was big. He had several of them of various sizes. You stroked them, hand damp. The monster continued to breathe softly out of his mouth, tongue lolling out. After a minute or two of just petting him you decided you had more questions.

“The thing I don't understand is, is if there were no one to attract, why eat so much?”

He rolled over onto his back, forcing you to step away as he adjusted. His girth was taking up over half the floor. “Instinct,” he replied.

You could see now his face was dripping more than usual, the cyan of his tongue almost melting into the seafoam of his body. The tentacles of his head fell slightly out of place, and you were struck by the beautiful gleam of his opened eyes. You felt the tension- his head was turned and he was staring you down again, just watching and smelling you quietly like earlier. You had to touch him. 

When your skin made contact with his chest you, for the first time, got to truly feel the texture of his body. It was much like the slime toys you got at school at reading fairs, but more solid. In some places it was more gooy, melting down to either be reabsorbed and solidified again or to be dribbled to the floor. He was chilled, but not cold, like room temperature water. 

You wondered If you could insert your hand. Your finger jabbed at the 'skin,' trying to see how far it could go, but he lifted his head, scrunched his snout, and growled. 

“That hurts,” he said, reverting back to his calm appearance instantly and feeling bad for being vicious. 

“Sorry,” you smiled sheepishly. 

His head fell back down and he huffed. “I really have to leave now,”

You never heard him sound so serious. Well, you only knew him for nearly two weeks, but still. You were disappointed. 

You stroked your splayed fingers over his chest. “Aw, but I was going to bring you up more food later when the family arrives,”

He sat on his elbows. “Bring it to me later.. I am scared I am going to hurt you,”

Confusion. What did that have to do with anything? “Huh? Hurt me? I think we're past that,” you placed your hand on his snout and patted him. Yeah, he was cute. 

In response he quickly snapped his jaws around your forearm- but gently. His teeth poked at your skin but did not draw blood. His bright eyes pierced yours and you were actually struck with fear, but calmed quickly from the surprise. He wouldn't do it. 

You feigned anger. “Why do you want to go so badly? I just miss my friends,”

He let off the pressure of his teeth then licked all up your forearm and palm, leaving a slimy mess behind. Then when you retracted your arm from the shock he leaned and licked your face, just as he had done in the forest.

“Wh-why? Why?” you sputtered.

“You make me feel inhuman things,”

Before another word could be uttered you were flipped hastily to your back; you hit the floor with a thud and a heaviness loomed over your body, a dark shadow blocking the sunlight of the window. The monster had pushed you down and gotten onto his fours. His face was hoovering just over yours and he stared down into your wide eyes. Maybe you were an idiot for not seeing it before, but he was deeply in heat. 

Hot breath hit your face and your neck and you didn't know what to do. You couldn't lie that he had made your heart pound in both excitement and fear, that he had given you shivers when he had licked you in the forest, that there was some striking feeling of warmth between your legs when he watched you change pants. You couldn't lie that even now your heart thumped haphazardly, or that tightness was growing southward. 

Finally he made a noise. A whine bubbled from his throat. “I will hurt you human,” he fretted again. “so small, so nice, tell me to go away or I-I may not hold back,”

Your lips parted to say something, but instead you shook your head. Gelatin dripped onto your cheek and he slowly lowered his snout to your neck, nuzzling. 

“Are you certain,” he whispered. “promise.. you won't break if I-...?”

At this point, should you care if you were to break? But you weren't porcine, and he wasn't a grubby child at Goodwill. 

You lifted shaky arms up around his neck and whispered back. “Promise,”

That was all he wanted to hear, but he was still nervous. No amount of nervousness was going to keep him from fucking you at this point though. He had stolen chicken after chicken, ate cooked meal after cooked meal, hunted deer after deer. He didn't expect to rut a monster, let alone a human. It wasn't his plan at all. But you always smelled lovely. You smelled like meat, but then you also smelled like fresh laundry and homemade bread. Those were unique to you, no monster smelled like that. You were so enticing and soft.

He licked your neck sweetly and slowly, dragging his tongue up to your jaw. Shutter. You wondered if he could kiss with a mouth like that, and decided you didn't care if he couldn't because you'd kiss it anyways. Your smooched his chin and were rewarded with a smile. He bucked a little, uselessly. He desperately needed to position you and fuck you, oh he really really needed to fuck you. You were so small now compared to his ten foot height, it would not be as intimate. 

You threw him from his thoughts. “What are you going to do?” you asked softly, almost panting already.

He lowered his knees to the ground and sat back against his calves, leaving a large space between you two. So he stretched forward and drug you by the legs towards him, earning a little squeak from you when you slid. Instead of reply he took the edge of your pant leg between two of his fingers and tugged carefully, before giving you a quizzical expression.

“Remove these,” he said. He didn't know how to take them off.

So you unbuttoned the jeans and pulled down the zipper, to which the beast hastily ripped them off of you. Your cheeks were bright and hot, your panties exposed and rump against the cold (and a little gooy) floorboards. Bashfulness encouraged you to tug down your sweater.

With the cover now yanked away he had access to the desired warm wet nether regions. His tongue lolled as he smelled- but oh, this wasn't close enough. Onto his squishy belly he went. Drippy fingers grasped one of your legs and with ease pealed it away from the other, leaving him to muzzled away the remaining one at the knee. You shook and he took notice, though now you refused to look at him and covered your eyes with your sleeves. 

Wrapped up in you embarrassment, you barely heard his deep inhale and did not see at all the drool. Tongue instantly met panties. You clasped your hand against your lips hard as a whimper vibrated in your throat. Your legs came up again by instinct and met the sides of his head. One of his tentacles coiled around your thigh. He lapped at the cloth, soaking them through within seconds. His strokes were slow but feverish, and a hiss of satisfaction emanated from him when he stopped.

“You taste as good as you smell,” his sultry voice complimented. 

Legs relaxing once he stopped, you peaked out from around the wool. A digit plucked at the panties and pulled at the lace, moving them aside just enough to see what it was he was licking under there. Without hesitation he returned to his task, wet tongue on hot pink flesh happily giving it what it needed. You watched but used the sleeve to muffle the sweet sighs and tiny groans.

Then you felt it. His forked tongue poked at your slick entrance, but only just so. He licked his lips and came back, lapped at the hole again and again just tasting you. He didn't push his tongue in far enough to hurt or do any stretching but you felt a slight ache. Then the slime lapped back up your clit, swirling around and getting another carefully muffled moan from you. He abruptly pulled back. A gummy clawed finger looped around the side of the undergarment and cut it just as easily as if it were made of melted butter.

He got onto hands and knees and started to position, leaving you staring more so at his belly than anything else. “God, I have wanted to-” he panted “- to, to, ah,”

Shit, he really did have a dick. When did he get that? It was forming into a mass as solid as his tails, long and thick. The base was swollen and the head tapered a bit, but appeared slanted rather than pointed. It didn't look like one of his tentacles. The very act of formation was giving him pleasure.

The mass was touching your thigh and slicking it with the slime that coated it. It bobbed with a twitch, becoming amorphous for a moment before solidifying back. You were seriously going to get fucked by a ten foot ball of jello shaped like a chicken. The real question was- COULD you get fucked? It was huge! There was no way that would fit. 

You voiced your concerns. “You're going to rip me in half,”

He looked between his arms at your frail little human body and his massive squirming cock. It started to drip and ooze until it was little more than a mess hanging from his groin. Then the mess stuck to your pussy, feeling much like you had just gotten cummed on. It felt weird and you leaped with a shiver, especially with the goo moving and coating both your labia and clit. At the same time the sensation was new and interesting and felt good to be fondled. It tingled.

Then it was in you, tendril like streams of slime oozing into your waiting hole. You were on your elbows now, watching apprehensively. At first you didn't feel anything besides a slight cooling inside of you. But as more and more of the mess that was his dick poured into you it began to stretch. 

Realization wafted over you, light and fluffy like a cloud with the slow and easy filling. He was trying to be careful. Instead of plunging himself into you, which would have caused much grief, he was properly adjusting to your small size. The feeling was still similar to cum with the amorphous liquid form it was in, and you finally laid back down to revel in it.

It kept streaming in, getting bigger and bigger, more solid. The pressure was starting to ache now and stretch your pussy wide. You actually had to grit your teeth. Eventually it felt like it stopped, and the squishy gel like phallus got even more solid. You could feel it throbbing with desire; he wanted to ram you so badly. 

The monster panted and whined. You were just so small and warm, and he was swollen with seed that had been ready to fertilize something for days now. Once he started he wouldn't be able to stop.

“Let me,” pant pant “move,” pant.

Your hands slid under your sweater and pinched at a tender nipple. He was looking down at you below his belly. You gave a shy nod.

Not a second after being given permission his hips pulled away, dragging his cock out from between the slick lips. He stopped so the tip was just in, then pushed in with more fever. Your eyes closed tight and jaw set. You hadn't gotten used to the girth. The pain made your hornier; it was all so depraved and wrong. Being taken by a monster, filling your pussy with something that hardly fit, sex on the floorboards of your grandmother's farmhouse. You twisted both of your nipples and grunted when he pushed in again and he whined with the need.

He couldn't hold back any longer. With a low groan of want, pulse after pulse crammed into your folds, getting deeper with every thrust as you adjusted and got wetter. Soon he was rutting his hips against yours, bits of his body dripping onto you and sticking to your skin when it met his.

With his hard pushing you were slowly slipping out of place with nothing to hold you. He scooted forward to keep up but then two of his tentacles reached down and wrapped around your ankles to hold you firmly from moving any further away from his thrusts.

Sweater sleeve held close to your lips, you had to bit into the cloth to keep from making loud noises and alerting your family downstairs. If they didn't hear the monstrous sound of you being fucked into the floor already, then screams and cries with certainly bring someone knocking on your door.

“Ahhh, ah- ffhhk! Mm so fhull!” you mumbled through the wool. 

The hold on your legs grew tighter and he was erratic, but abruptly stopped and lifted his upper body so he was only on his knees. His legs slipped out around from under him and he supported you with his hands, never pulling out. Soon he was on his back and you on his stomach, your legs being kept forcibly spread apart by the tight grip on your ankles. 

Without missing a beat, he had his hands around your bare waist and was using you like a sex toy. He would push his throbbing cock into you and with his hands bring you down upon it, then he would lift you up and pull out to the tip. The slapping of gelatine against skin was loud in the room, but your mind was hazed over so badly you could not think to care. What day was it again?

“Wa-wanted to- ah-!” he tried to talk. The rest came out as gibberish between whimpers, you could not understand him. 

His fingers dug into you and again he was erratic. You reached down to try and rub yourself, the lifting and dropping making it difficult, but it was sloppy and still felt good. 

“Ohhh God,” he whispered, slowing and trembling all over. “little human,”

He pushed you down and held you there hard, the grip on your waist almost hurt and the tentacles on your ankles threatened to spread you too far. The swollen base of his dick twitched and he gave a hard shutter, cumming directly into you. It filled you so fully that it dribbled down what little of him that wasn't inside of you and onto his thighs and tails. You even thought your tummy bulged a little.

Stilled, you rubbed your aching clitoris furiously. A hand slipped down and retrieved cum, rubbing it over the red bulb. God this was hot; he opened an eye after them having been closed and peeked at you with exhaustion, observing.

It didn't take long to orgasm, the weight of it causing limbs to tremble and a pleased squeak from your throat. Your walls tightened and twitched against his spent shaft, making your fluids mix further. He watched your get off on his dick before he sleepily shut his eye once more, exhaling. 

The tentacles fell down and the hands on your waist let up. Tired and sore, you laid aginst his belly. He was so relieved that he began falling right asleep in your room, still coupled.

You thumped him and he jolted, before yawning. 

“I just had sex with a monster,” you commented quietly. 

He grinned that wide monster grin of his and slipped out carefully. A sticky pink-tinted cum trickled out. “You won't need to feed me more anymore,”

You found yourself sad. “Are you.. going to go away? Since you mated?”

He pulled you up to his chest and rolled over, clutching you like a teddy bear sweetly. The smallest little lick he had ever given was stroked over your head, leaving a tiny cowlick. “No,”

You two were quiet for a few moments and you were worried he fell asleep again. Then an idea hit you like a train and you piped up, unable to get the question from your head. “What's your name?”

When he didn't reply you bopped him on the snout and he snorted. 

“Hey, wake up, what's you name?”

“Hm?”

“I don't know your name.”

He hummed, the tentacles on his head shifting slowly. “I'm called Mercy,”

\--EPILOGUE--

Thanksgiving had been lovely. After a change of clothes and many excuses as to why you were in your room so long, family began arriving car by car. The turkey was juicy, the pies were handmade, and the laughs were genuine. You missed that. 

Who didn't want to inherit a farm from their grandparents? After Thanksgiving you only had a few days left before returning to California and your job. But you just couldn't muster it. Even before copulating with Mercy you were considering staying. You wanted to look after your parents and grandmother, and had fond memories of helping around the farm during school breaks. After that Thanksgiving morning you were even more convinced this was where you needed to be.

Your career was in California, and so were the friends you made. But here was your family and your childhood dog, here was the pond you and your siblings hunted newts at. Here was Mercy. 

Your family nearly burst with tears when they originally heard you wanted to stay and pitch in at the farm. You thought Rowdy looked happier too. And Mercy- when you told him he lifted you so high in the air you screamed. 

So you called in your two weeks notice, flew back with a heavy heart, gave the company their due diligence, then returned with the haste of a cat on a hot tin roof.


End file.
